


Fine Day, Sunday

by foolofatook001



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Everybody lives!au, Fluff, Gen, James isn't that good of a cook but he tries, parenting wins, seriously this barely has a plot it's just there to make you feel happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27676442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolofatook001/pseuds/foolofatook001
Summary: In which James makes pancakes and watches his son grow up.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Fine Day, Sunday

James made pancakes every Sunday morning. It was something he’d started when he and Lily had first gotten their house, and it had become a tradition. Just the two of them in the kitchen, sipping pumpkin or orange juice, depending on the mood, and having pancakes. There were often scrambled eggs, since those and pancakes were the two things James could make well, and it made for an altogether pleasant breakfast that usually led into a lazy Sunday morning and afternoon.

When Harry was born, there was a small lapse in pancake Sundays, as both James and Lily adjusted to being parents of a fussy newborn, but once Harry was finally sleeping through the night and able to eat solid foods, James revived the practice.

He loved those times in the kitchen before everyone else was awake. The sun would peek in through the blinds as he bustled around, using a small levitation spell to make sure the pancakes were flipped perfectly. Of course as a Quidditch player he had  _ excellent _ reflexes, and he was  _ perfectly  _ competent with a spatula, thank you very much, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.

Lily usually timed it so she came out with Harry just as the eggs were finishing up, a yawn still lingering around her mouth and her red hair falling about her shoulders. She’d set Harry in his high chair and all three of them would eat (though little Harry couldn’t manage a whole pancake at first, just small bits of one). 

They were still in hiding, and there was a certain amount of fear and frustration that came with that, but Sundays were one of the bright spots in their lives.

James was making pancakes when the news came that Voldemort had been defeated and the war was over; the news that their son would be safe and they could return to normal life. He shouted for Lily as he stared at the softly glowing phoenix Patronus in the middle of their kitchen. She came rushing out, fearing the worst, but fiercely hugged her husband when she heard the message, swinging him around the kitchen.

“Watch the hob!” James yelped, but he couldn’t stop the massive smile that he knew was spreading over his face.

“It’s over, it’s over,” Lily kept repeating, and the relief that rushed through both of them was immense. 

There were many more Sundays after that; sometimes Sirius or Remus or Sirius  _ and _ Remus would drop in. It had come out that Peter had been dealing information to the Death Eaters, and he had fled the country after Voldemort’s fall. The betrayal had cut deep, but it had brought the three remaining Marauders closer together and made them devoutly thankful that they had ultimately decided to forgo Sirius’ double-blind Secret-Keeper plan.

As Harry grew, James kept on making pancakes every Sunday. He grew more skilled, able to make the pancakes into different shapes, to his son’s great delight. Lily would watch with an amused smile on her face as James levitated a plate with broomstick pancakes over to Harry, whose bright green eyes – so like his mother’s – would be round with awe.

The Sunday before Harry left for Hogwarts for the first time, James made pancakes in the shape of the school crest, but his son only picked at them, nibbling at the edges.

“Harry,” Lily scolded. “Even if you’re nervous, you still have to eat.”

James perched on the edge of the table, ignoring the look Lily shot at him. “You know plenty of people in your year already,” he encouraged. “What about Ron Weasley? You two are friends, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking marginally less morose.

“And you know Neville,” Lily put in. The other members of the Order had gotten together regularly after the end of the war, and several of the families with younger children had bonded. “Plus some of the professors – like Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore. You remember them.”

“Eat up,” James told Harry. “Hogwarts will be the best years of your life – oh, and I have something for you before we leave. Remind me of it tomorrow morning, would you, Harry?”

“James, I don’t think you should…” Lily began, knowing  _ exactly _ what he planned to give to his son, but trailed off at the burning curiosity in her son’s face. “It’s too late, never mind,” she said, with a helpless laugh.

The next morning, James handed over his Invisibility Cloak with much ceremony, with Lily rolling her eyes in the background, though she did help Harry put it on and took a photo of his seemingly floating head in the middle of their sitting room.

There was a knock on the front door. James let Sirius in, a grin on his face as he proudly presented Harry, still wrapped in the Cloak. Sirius laughed and ruffled Harry’s hair.

“I’m going to be in Gryffindor, just like you and Dad and Mum and Uncle Remus,” Harry told him solemnly as they got the Floo powder ready to go. They were headed for a public fireplace that was concealed from Muggles just outside the station, so Harry could have the full experience of going onto Platform 9 ¾ for the first time. James remembered doing something very similar with his parents.

Once on the platform, they ran into the Weasleys, much to Harry’s joy (and Lily and James’ relief). Ron and Harry were soon chattering about Hogwarts and got on the train with no second thoughts, waving happily from the window with the older Weasley boys as the Hogwarts Express left the station. 

James watched the train go, struck by a strange sense of loss. “Have we done all right with him?” he wondered aloud, reaching for Lily’s hand.

“I think we’ve done perfectly all right,” Lily replied, lacing her fingers in his and giving him a soft smile. “Now, why don’t we head home and you can make pancakes on a Monday for me, just this once.”


End file.
